


Closing Shift

by buramm



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Author is trans, Begging, Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Vaginal Sex, feminizing terms for trans anatomy, security guard fucks trans boy librarian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buramm/pseuds/buramm
Summary: Sam loves working the closing shift at the library. It gives him time to himself, and sure, sometimes he uses it in ways he shouldn't, but no one's ever seen him. It turns out that someone has heard him, and that someone has plans.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Closing Shift

Sam put another book back on the shelf, then checked his watch. It was almost 10pm, and the campus library was nearly as dark as it was empty. A few stragglers hunched under lamps and crammed for midterms near the reference desk, but Sam felt as though he were on his own. It was the best part of working late at the library, all this time to himself. Aside from the occasional check-in from campus security, most nights it was just Sam and the books by this time. He looked forward to 10, when he cleared out the last students, and had another hour to re-shelve books in silence. Sometimes, if he’d just taken his testosterone shot recently, Sam would take that last hour to lay across one of the library tables with his pants unbuttoned and…

He stopped himself at the thought. As much as he’d like to, he really had to be more careful about that – campus security had nearly caught him on a couple of occasions, and being 19 and here on work-study, Sam really couldn’t afford to lose his job. Without the support of family, Sam needed the work-study or he would have to drop out and lose his dorm. He couldn’t afford to be homeless, jobless, and only halfway through a degree.

“Hey,” a sudden voice pulled Sam from his reverie. He startled, but it was just campus security.

“Hey, Ryan,” Sam said. “How’s the night treating you?”

“No trouble so far. Everything good here?” Sam nodded, and Ryan stood for another moment looking at him. Ryan was in his late 20’s, maybe, tall and fit in the way that bitter police academy washouts often were – and Sam knew that’s what he was. He was a nice enough guy, but he was a little too intense and conservative for Sam’s comfort. A few people on campus knew that Sam was trans, but he worried that Ryan wouldn’t respect him if he ever found out. “Well, good. Have a good night.”

“You too, man.” It was late enough that Sam cleared out the last few students from the library, locking the doors behind them and locking himself in. He allowed himself a small smile. For an introvert, this was the best part of the night.

There were only a few books left to re-shelve, and Sam figured it might be a short enough night that he could get home and get a full 8 hours before his _own_ midterms tomorrow, which he’d studied for well ahead of time.

“I’ve been meaning to ask-” Ryan’s voice behind Sam made him jump. “Sorry, not to startle you.” Sam turned around. Ryan was standing close, having come from god-knows-where.

“No worries. What’s up?”

“Right.” Ryan smiled at the ground for a second. “I’ve been meaning to ask, your name wasn’t always Sam, was it?”

“What do you mean?”

Ryan took a few steps closer. Sam stepped back to maintain his personal bubble, but found himself backed against a table.

“Well, I met a guy the other day that made me think of you. And then I learned that he’d grown up as a girl, and I realized what it was about him that reminded me of a small, quiet library clerk I know.”

Sam was deeply uncomfortable with the turn the situation had taken, but there was really no getting out of it now.

“Yeah, I’m trans. So?”

“So, nothing. I’m happy to hear it.” Ryan stepped closer again, bracing his arms on the table and trapping Sam only inches from the guard’s face. There was a sick feeling in his gut that wouldn’t go away.

“Ryan, please don’t do this.”

“What are you going to do? Cry like a girl?” Sam spent a brief moment angry about the social expectation that boys shouldn’t cry, but realized how ridiculous that trail of thought was in the face of immediate threat.

“Don’t,” he said with the firmest voice he could muster. His voice still shook. Ryan smirked, one hand trapping one of Sam’s on the table and the other coming up to wrap around Sam’s throat – not squeezing enough to kill, but certainly enough to keep the young man frozen in place.

“I’m not going to fuck you until you beg me for it,” Ryan said. His voice was the kind of confident and low that Sam could never master. “I’ve heard your moans in here some nights, so now I want to see your face as you make those sounds for me.”

“Please, Ryan,” Sam begged. He felt tears welling in his eyes. “Please, anything else, I’ve never done it before.”

“Even better.” Ryan’s smile was predatory. “I like the idea of being the one to break you in. Now be good, or I _will_ hurt you.” He squeezed Sam’s neck for a few seconds to get the point across. Sam looked him in the eye and held perfectly still.

Ryan let go of Sam and then turned him around, leaning him forward over the study table. Ryan’s hands were warm and strong as they reached under the hem of Sam’s sweater, finding the binder, and then reaching underneath that as well. He ran his hands up Sam’s sides, pushing the fabric up as he went and leaning hard against him. Sam could feel Ryan getting hard, his erection pressing against Sam like a threat and a promise.

Eventually, Ryan’s hands found Sam’s breasts, compressed under the binder. He squeezed them for a moment, tweaking Sam’s nipples, and Sam had to bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut. It didn’t feel good, but it did feel… something. Ryan pulled his hands back, then gripped the hem of his sweater and binder and pulled them both up, forcing Sam’s arms over his head with the sleeves and trapping him in his half-stripped clothes. The table felt cold against his chest. Even with his eyes open, Sam could only see the cable-knit pattern of his sweater.

“Don’t, please,” he begged, struggling despite himself. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” Ryan shoved him hard against the table, bruising the front of his thighs.

“You’ll like this too much to give away our little secret,” he grunted. “Just relax, Sam, and take it.” Sam felt the button and zipper of his jeans undone, his pants and boxers pulled down all at once. Ryan pulled them all the way down, slipping off Sam’s shoes and stripping him until his bottom half was completely naked. Caught up inside his sweater and binder, Sam could do nothing but squirm and choke back a sob.

Ryan nudged Sam’s legs with a knee gently to spread them.

“Look at you,” Ryan said, “you’re a vision.” He shuffled in his pants for something, and then Sam heard the unmistakable shutter sound of a camera phone. There was a sound as he set the phone down beside them, and Sam thought if only he could reach it, get away, and call the police. Then Ryan rested his hands on Sam’s ass, gripping firmly as he massaged outwards.

One hand reached around, fingers slipping between Sam’s folds until one rough fingerpad brushed against his clit. It had grown significantly since Sam started hormones a year ago, and grown considerably more sensitive, but he was still dry and it didn’t feel good. Sam gasped and twitched forward.

“Uh-uh, what did I say about behaving?”

Ryan ran his index finger down further, until it was pressed right against Sam’s entrance. He stroked gently back up and down again, occasionally pressing his finger into Sam by centimeters but mostly lavishing the attention on the most sensitive parts of his body. It horrified him to realize it, but Sam felt himself growing slick after a minute, his body responding in the way bodies are programmed to respond.

“That’s a good boy,” Ryan murmured. “See? It’s not so bad.” This time when he stroked back upwards, he put pressure on Sam’s sensitive clit and the jerking motion he made was not struggling. Ryan chuckled.

“Please stop touching me,” Sam’s voice was muffled through fabric.

“What was that? Please keep touching you?” Ryan mocked. “I knew you’d come around.” He sank his index finger all the way in to Sam’s cunt and Sam couldn’t help the extended moan at the intrusion. It wasn’t thick, but it was new.

“No,” he said when he caught his breath. “Stop.”

Ryan pulled his finger out, and Sam thought for a moment that it was over. He felt tentative relief.

“Sam, you’re not leaving until we both get off. So I can make you swallow my cum and leave you here with these security-issue zip ties, spread like a treat for whoever finds you in the morning, or you can take it like a good little bitch and come on my dick, like we both know you want to.”

Sam shook his head, but stopped when he heard the plasticky sound of zip ties.

“Maybe I’ll tie you at the reference desk, legs spread so your morning coworkers get a good view of your body first-thing through the door, huh? Do you want that?”

“No,” Sam groaned in defeat.

“No, what?”

“No, I don’t want that.” Sam’s head rang as Ryan suddenly slammed it against the table, stars dancing in his eyes.

“Then call me sir and tell me what you _do_ want.”

“I want you to-” Sam couldn’t make himself say it. Not yet. “To keep touching me, sir. Please.”

Ryan’s hands returned to his ass again, massaging and spreading him without dignity. This time, when Ryan’s hand found his clit again, Sam felt a spark of pleasure and let out a stuttered moan.

“You know,” Ryan said, “I worried that wanting to fuck you would make me gay. But then I realized if I take you like a bitch, it doesn’t matter. You’ll just be my little bitchboy.” He inserted his finger into Sam again. “This is the part that matters.”

Sam felt himself shaking, but it wasn’t just the cold of his exposed skin or fear. It was exactly what Ryan knew he would do, and he felt shame at feeling it, but the desire was still there. He shifted his hips to take Ryan’s index finger in deeper. The security guard curled his finger and Sam felt that he was _just_ shy of hitting a sensitive spot inside him.

Ryan’s other hand let go of Sam’s ass and pulled his sweater and binder the rest of the way off. Even though most of the lights were off in the library, Sam still squinted at the light for a moment before he adjusted.

“You want this, don’t you, Sam?”

“Yes, sir.” Sam could see the phone beside him now. With his hands uncaught, he could reach it if he wanted to. Maybe he could struggle away and call for help… but he didn’t. He could see a clock from here, too. It was 10:30. In a better world, he would be home by now, cozy in bed, ready for exams in the morning.

“Tell me what else you want.”

“I want to go home, sir.” Sam’s voice shook.

“Aww, Sam. And you know what you have to do before you can go home?” Sam nodded. “Then what are you waiting for?” Ryan took his finger out of Sam and stepped back, allowing the young man to turn and face him. He took the phone, too, holding it up in a way that Sam knew meant this was being recorded – there was no shutter sound, so likely video.

Sam was flushed from his cheeks all the way down to his modest breasts, nipples hard. His breathing was heavy, and the slickness between his legs coated a short layer of hair. As terrified as he was, Sam couldn’t help his arousal and knew that he _would_ enjoy what happened next, that he wanted it now.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, sir,” Sam said, desperate. “I want to cum with you inside me. Fuck me like I’m your bitchboy.”

Ryan smiled, then set down the phone. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. When he pulled his cock from his boxers, it was already hard. He’d been getting off on the mental torture alone, Sam realized. It looked to be around six inches, but it was thick, too.

“Gladly.”

Ryan wasn’t kind or gentle, crowding into Sam’s space again and shoving him until his back was flat against the table. He lifted and spread Sam’s legs, then used one hand to line his cock up against Sam’s entrance.

“They say your first time doesn’t have to hurt,” Ryan said. “But yours is going to. I want you to look me in the eyes for this part.” Sam nodded, more scared than he had been since the beginning, and he felt the warm tip of Ryan’s cock against him.

It was more painful than Sam had expected, and he flinched and cried out as Ryan’s cock filled him. It felt like it tore him a little, but he kept his eyes on Ryan the whole time. It felt like he couldn’t fit any more in him. Ryan’s eyelids closed half-way and he groaned, a satisfied smile on his face, then stopped to savor the sensation. Sam gasped at the pain. When Ryan pulled out partway, it still hurt, and hurt again with the next thrust.

Ryan reached down to touch the place where their bodies met, and held up a finger for Sam to see. It had just the faintest trace of blood.

“Just what I hoped for.”

Ryan smiled. Then he gripped Sam by the hips and thrust into him harder, now going at a relentless pace that felt like it bruised Sam every time their hips connected.

The young man cried out with every thrust, tears streaming down his face, wishing he were anywhere but here. Then Ryan moved one hand so his thumb gently massaged Sam’s clit again, and the pleasure returned. Soon it didn’t hurt, and Sam found himself thrusting his own hips and chasing the electric sensation building in his gut.

“Fuck,” Ryan hissed, “you’re so good for me. Fucking take that dick, boy. You feel so fucking good.”

Sam’s head bumped against the table as he tried to nod, tears still wet on his face despite the pleasure he felt. When he got himself off in the library, he was always worried about being found out. Now, the only security guard that might catch him was already here, playing rough with Sam like he was a toy.

“Please, please,” Sam panted, struggling to find the words. “Please, sir.”

“You like that?”

“Yes,” Sam moaned, louder than he meant to. But he was already caught. “Fuck, please, I wanna- I wanna cum.”

“You want to cum what?”

“I want to cum, s-sir,” it was practically a whine. Sam reached down as though he could grab Ryan and force himself further onto the man’s cock, but Ryan knocked his arms out of the way and leaned them both harder into the table. His pelvis pressed against Sam’s swollen clit in just the right way.

Sam came harder than he ever had in his life, his vision washing white for a second as his whole body jerked in ecstasy. He couldn’t muffle the shout as he felt his inner walls clenching around Ryan, the intrusion drawing out his orgasm just a little longer. When it passed, Sam lay weak on the table.

“Good boy,” Ryan said, “I knew you’d like it. You’re going to like this next part, too.” He thrust harder, eyebrows furrowed in focus just as Sam realized that the man wasn’t using any kind of protection. The hormones had stopped Sam’s period, but that wasn’t foolproof.

“Wait-” he said, but it was too late. Ryan buried himself to the hilt in Sam’s cunt and groaned. Sam could feel the warmth fill him up as Ryan came inside him, marking his insides and claiming Sam as his own. Ryan let his own waves of pleasure pass before he pulled out, his cock softening as he tucked it back into his pants.

Sam lay there, stunned, feeling cum dripping out of him and onto the table.

“Glad you had fun, Sam,” Ryan said. “I’ll see you again soon.”

All Sam could think about was how late he would be getting home.

**Author's Note:**

> Not all trans people are okay with certain terms being used for themselves or their anatomy. If you're going to have sex with a trans person, you should talk ahead of time about what words they like and what words you should avoid.
> 
> If you're seriously thinking of raping somebody, please speak to a therapist. This is a work of fantasy, and should never become reality.


End file.
